Chapter 30

As soon as we were safely away from the attackers, Barbary slowed to a more reasonable speed. In the dense fog, we had been lucky not to have been in a collision. Blathers yelled up to the driver again, “How did ya happen along?”

Barbary yelled back, “Soon as we gets ta the Black Lion, you’ll see.”

Within a few minutes, the cab pulled into the yard of the inn. Barbary spoke to the hostler, “Feed dese fine young animals, and puts dem ta bed. Dey has done good work tonight, and deserves a rest. Come on, gents. We needs somethin’ ta warm our insides.”

The taproom was almost empty. The fog had sent everyone home early. The only occupants were Clara, squeezed with some discomfort into a chair in front of the fire, and Barkis, himself. Barkis was a wee man in comparison to his mate. He sat in a chair just like the one the hefty Clara occupied, but his feet barely touched the ground when he sat all the way back. There was also one customer—Caddy Quale, the Irish gangster or, perhaps, Irish benefactor.

“Faith, Blathers and Duff, you’re alive and well. Ya did good work, Barbary.”

“It were touch an’ go fer a time, dere.” Barbary seemed to know Quale well. “Ya wants ta know how I happened ta be on the scene o’ your battle? Well, I works fer Caddy, and he asked me ta keep an eye on ya. When dat link-boy put ya in dat coach, I thought I best follow.”

I said, “It’s a good thing you did, or there would be pieces of me and Blathers all over the place.”

Blathers added, “There’d also be some more fellers wi’ holes in them. I wish I had left a few more bullets wi’ them. Anyway, many a thanks fer rescuing us, but I doesn’t understands how ya and Caddy is mixed up in this.”

Caddy explained, “Ya met with Father Sean—I mean Father John—didn’t ya, now. And he told ya about his relationship with the lady. Faith, doesn’t he also serves as priest for many of the people I look out for. I pretty much support him while he’s here. Sure, he’s me brother. Not all me da’s boys turned out ta be criminals, although some o’ the English think as all Irish are, specially the priests. Me and me brother, together, we do our best ta make life for the Irish, them as have come here ta avoid starvin’, more livable.”

Duff asked, “If you and your brother are helping the lady, why did she get us involved?”

“Faith now, the problem is politics, ya know. There’s someone trying ta get Sir Robert. If’n his wife was having a love affair it would be bad, but, because of his support fer the Emancipation Act, if’n it became known she was wanting ta be a Catholic, it would be worse. But the very worst news would be that she was acquainted with the Irish gangster Caddy Quale. I must stay out of it, and Father John dare not go near her or her house. We need the story ta be that you two recovered the jewelry from a person or persons unknown, not from Father John or with da help o’ Caddy Quale.”

Blathers said, “We is willin’ ta helps all we can.” He no sooner finished speaking than the front door of the inn flew open and a group of uniformed police rushed in. One, with a paper in his hand, stepped forward. “Is ya Caddy Quale?”

“Saints preserve us, I am.”

“Well, we has a warrant fer your arrest, signed by the Queen’s Minister o’ Public Safety, Sir Percy Wesley. Ya’r accused o’ planning ta cause a riot among the Irish. Ya’r ta come wi’ us now.” Caddy rose from his chair, and the remaining Bobbies rushed forward and surrounded him. They pulled his arms behind him and tied his wrists. Two of them strapped irons, connected by a chain, to his legs.